


Red Flannel

by KerrianneTelford



Category: Rita (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fix-It, Rita is into women and you can't change my mind, s5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25934518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KerrianneTelford/pseuds/KerrianneTelford
Summary: Rita misses her best friend.
Relationships: Rita Madsen/Lea
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Red Flannel

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for season 5.
> 
> I was so disappointed that Lea didn't return for S5; I kept hoping until the very last episode. This is what I'd hoped would happen.
> 
> I wrote this story in a hurry, and it wasn't very good, so I decided to do a rewrite. Here it is.

Rita stared up at the hospital, her hands still gripping the steering wheel. She should _want_ to go inside, to her boyfriend, help him get through one of the most exciting days of his life. She should _want_ a lot – she’d always been good at wanting, but most of the time, it involved other people, either fucking or helping them.

She’d never really wanted something for herself.

She tried to pretend she was always doing whatever the hell she felt like doing, and everyone had fallen for it – Hjördis, Rasmus, Jeppe, even herself… Yeah, regular sex was nice. Starting her own school felt great, not to mention teaching the kids in her own way without some superior breathing down her neck and complaining about her methods. But there was always something missing, always that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that had been there since the day she’d cried barefoot on her best friend’s front lawn.

Gerd had reminded her of it. What it was like to have someone understand you, connect with you, get through to you. And then, she had died, and it was Rita’s fault: if only she’d noticed, if only she’d tried harder, her friend might still be alive.

She backed out of the parking spot and drove off, her fingers tense, aching for a cigarette. Tears gathered in her eyes again, and she bit her lip, trying to not break down completely.

Gerd had drowned. While they had so much more to do together. _If only_ …

The guilt had clawed at her insides for days now, tearing her heart to pieces. She shouldn’t have joked; she should’ve given her a passing grade. _If only_ … Gerd might still have been there if she had done things differently.

She came to a standstill before a red light, glancing back at the hospital in her rearview mirror. It was the regret that really got to her, the regret that crushed her with every breath she took. Sometimes, it was almost like she was drowning, like she was there in that moment with Gerd, in the lake, only darkness and ice-cold water surrounding her, her hands and arms struggling to get a grip, to somehow break through the surface.

She’d felt regret before, deep regret, at sixteen, standing on a front lawn in red flannel, but it still hadn’t been as unbearable as this. And she never wanted to feel it again.

She’d never really wanted something for herself.

Well, except for _her_.

Lea with her brown eyes and sweet smile, with her genuineness and big dreams.

The first time, she hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

“It doesn’t feel the same,” she’d said, after that first drunken kiss. Because it didn’t: it had been different. She’d felt safe and cherished, and that wasn’t what you were supposed to feel when making out. She knew well enough. She should’ve been horny, should’ve wanted to tear the clothes off her body, not pull her closer and stay like that.

She only understood what it meant until that fateful night, crying barefoot in red flannel.

The second time, it was still too late.

Another drunken kiss – why were they always drunk?

“Because she’s mine,” Lea had said in that poorly lighted bar, and she’d kissed her softly, and for the first time in all those years, she’d felt it again – that overwhelming safeness. “Men are so easy,” she’d said. They were, because they did not make her feel butterflies, they did not take her breath away, and they certainly weren’t that special that she wanted to spend all her time with them.

“Don’t you think we should try again for real,” Lea had asked, “and shouldn’t hold back?”

“Yes, I think so,” Rita had said. She hadn’t been sure what exactly Lea hinted at, but whatever it was, friendship or something more, she’d gladly take any of it.

Only she hadn’t been able to.

She’d messed up all those years ago, and there was no repairing it.

Yes, Lea had forgiven her, but that didn’t mean she could let Rita in again. _How many other lives have you wrecked? You just take whatever takes your fancy._ The words had been etched into her mind, even though she knew they’d been uttered in anger.

_You’re being yourself. That’s the problem._

But maybe anger had just encouraged Lea to speak the truth.

When the door opened and she saw Lea again after so many months, she had to put her hand against the wall for support. In all those years, she’d never quite forgotten those honey-brown eyes – they used to stare up at her in awe, filled with the kind of warmth that made her uncomfortable and yet always managed to draw her closer. Now, though, they were squinted in confusion, sitting in that older face she knew so well. Lea had always been pretty: pretty and sweet, with all that soft skin and that trusting smile. There was still some of that prettiness left – yet, most of it had morphed into something more dignified. She was a woman, after all, insanely hot with her tight denim skirt above leather boots.

“Rita?”

“Hi.” She lifted her hand, about to give a stupid wave, but caught herself at the last moment and only tucked her hair behind her ear. It was difficult to look her old friend in the eye, for some reason. “I err, was in the neighborhood, thought you might want to grab a beer together.” She attempted a smile, ending up with a grimace.

Lea crossed her arms in front of her chest, inspecting her with distrust. “You were in the neighborhood?”

“Mm-hm,” Rita nodded. It was a stupid and most obvious lie, but she hadn’t been able to come up with a better reason. She just wanted to see her best friend.

“How do you even know where I live?”

Lea didn’t trust her. Of course, she didn’t. It was in her voice, the way she regarded Rita, half-hidden behind the door, as if readying herself to slam it in her face.

“Hjördis.” She shrugged, attempting to seem casual about it. “She’s still in contact with your son, as you probably know.” At the mention of her friend, tears stung behind her eyes, and she swallowed, trying not to think of Gerd.

 _I did promise I would run you out of town_ – it’d been one of the last things she’d told Lea, and she wondered now if that was all she’d ever done. Run people out of town, or run away from them herself.

“Is he… is he here?” she asked, not sure to which ‘he’ she was referring.

Lea averted her gaze, running a hand through her hair. The way it parted on the side, brown locks grazing her shoulder, was achingly familiar, something left from when they were girls. “No, he’s at his dad’s,” she said then. Looking up, she added: “We’re divorced. Turns out, our problems didn’t magically vanish just because we moved to the city.”

There it was again—that overwhelming guilt, knocking her off her feet. Maybe, if she hadn’t talked to Martin, if she hadn’t come back at all… Maybe she wouldn’t have ruined Lea’s life all over again. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “I’m so sorry, Lea.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away with her sleeve. She shouldn’t have come.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

But it was. All of it. Henrik, Lea, Martin, Gerd… It was all on her. She gasped, trying to steady herself on her trembling legs. “You were right,” she said, her voice small and raspy. “I’m the problem. It’s me.”

Lea shook her head, opening the door up wide. “No, it’s not,” she said. “Rita, if this is about what I said… I was angry. I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t fair of me to blame you.”

“But it was. It was all me.” _Gerd._

Lea sighed, taking a tentative step towards her. She smelled of grass and forest and warmth, different from when they were young. “My dad carries much more blame than you do,” she said, “and so does Martin.”

Those were the words that made her come undone. As tears rolled down her face, one after the other, her legs gave out, and she slipped down the wall to the floor, burying her face in her hands. It would’ve been so much easier if Lea had gotten mad again, had sent her away – she didn’t deserve this, not after everything that happened.

“Rita, what’s wrong?”

But she couldn’t respond.

There was a shift, and out of the blue, she felt a warm body next to her, drawing her in and wrapping her up in two soft arms.

Once again, Rita felt safe.

Her phone buzzed. She checked the screen. That was the seventh missed call from Rasmus – there were a bunch from Hjördis and Jeppe too, along with worried text messages she couldn’t bring herself to reply to yet.

It had always been like that. With Lea, the rest of the world didn’t exist.

It was a little after midnight. Empty beer bottles littered the floor, soft light flooding the corner of the cramped living room, Lea curled up on the couch with her eyes closed. Rita couldn’t remember ever describing someone as beautiful, and yet it was the only word qualified to describe this woman lying next to her, her hair tousled and her mascara slightly smudged.

She wondered if Lea had fallen asleep. It brought a small smile to her face, the first genuine one in a while – that Lea still trusted her enough to be so comfortable in each other’s company.

Lea stirred, slowly opening her eyes to look at her. “What are you smiling about?” she asked, her voice lazy with sleep. For some reason, it sent goosebumps up Rita’s arms.

She shrugged. “Just missed this.” She hesitated, rubbing her own lower lip, then took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she managed to say. She couldn’t remember when she’d last said that – and meant it.

Lea didn’t answer, her eyes traveling to the phone on the coffee table. _Rasmus_ , again. Rita’s arm shot forward, quickly turning the thing off in its entirety, slipping it behind one of the cushions. Lea sent her a pointed look. “What poor guy have you been leading on now?” she said. The playful tone and glint in her eyes told Rita she was only teasing, and god, did that feel familiar and nice.

“Oh, just some fool,” she said. “The baby must’ve been born.” Lea frowned, so she added: “Long story. He’s not with the mother anymore.”

“Sounds complicated.”

Rita huffed, scratching the side of her head. She wasn’t sure how she managed to end up here, sprawled out on the couch with her legs spread wide and a bottle of beer in her hands, but she was glad she had. “I love kids,” she said, probably stating the obvious. “I just don’t think I want another one of those little brats in my life. All that crying… I’m getting too old for that.” It wasn’t for nothing that she’d terminated that pregnancy. “But I don’t know… Maybe I need to learn to compromise, or some shit like that.”

Lea looked at her. She hesitated, then moved her hand, lightly encircling Rita’s wrist. The touch was tentative, and yet felt heavy, like a thousand unspoken words. “Or maybe,” she said, “you should forgive yourself and just,” she shrugged, “be happy with yourself.”

There was a joyless laugh – Rita couldn’t help herself. Such crap. “I have forgiven myself.” She plucked at her t-shirt. “See? I ditched the flannel.”

“You really think it’s that easy?”

She took another swig from her beer, buying herself time. “I don’t know.”

“What do you like about him?”

“About Rasmus?” That was a strange question. She wanted to watch Lea’s face, decipher her expression, only she was afraid the other woman would retract her hand if she moved, so she stayed as she was. “He’s nice. A bit of a fool, but nice. And he likes me.”

Lea smiled, an amused smile, and withdrew anyway. “You really sound like a woman in love,” she said, and their eyes met, and all at once, they were laughing again, in stitches, Lea doubling over, burying her head in Rita’s chest.

Lea’s body trembling against her was something else, and she felt herself relax completely. She drew an arm around Lea, keeping her close. If only relationships could be like this, just fun and safe and cozy. That would be something.

She tilted her head to see Lea’s face, so close to hers, still smiling about their shared joke. “Ah, well,” she said, “it’s never like that, is it? In real life, you just settle for what seems nice.”

And there it was again, that look in those brown eyes, strong and intense, making her speechless. “Mm?” Lea murmured, playing with one of Rita’s blonde locks, curling it around her fingers. “So, did you ever think I was nice?”

She shook her head before she could think about it, stealing a glance at Lea’s lips, which she knew were soft and damn comfortable. “Nah. No man can compare to a woman like you. You must know that.”

Lea sighed again, a deep one that seemed to come from the very toes of her body, a ghost of a smile around the corner of her mouth. She didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything, just stared, her hand still on Rita’s chest. It was like she was challenging Rita to something – asking her, pleading her?

It wasn’t a deliberate, thought-out decision. She hadn’t even realized she’d wanted to until she did. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips touching Lea’s – and soft they still were, softer than anyone else’s. Lea tangled her hand in her hair, responding almost timidly, a featherlight kiss that tasted like lip-gloss and beer.

But this time, it wasn’t enough. Rita wanted more, hadn’t wanted like this in quite some time – usually, she aimed for a quick release. Now, she wanted to take her time, wanted nothing more than for it to go on and on. So, she snaked her arm around the other woman, pulling her onto her lap – she didn’t even have to guide her any further. Before she knew it, hands cupped her cheeks, and she opened her mouth, giving entrance.

Lea moaned, and it was the fucking sexiest thing she’d ever heard. It was something different to feel a woman’s body pressed against her, all curves and smoothness, and she felt the need to explore, to get rid of all these layers of clothing and trace every single inch of skin with her tongue. It still didn’t feel the same – it was so much better.

Until –

“Wait, wait. Rita, stop.” Lea pushed her hands away, and Rita froze, heart beating fast in her chest. Lea’s hair was tousled, her lips swollen, her shirt askew, showing a strip of naked shoulder, and she couldn’t handle being rejected – not now. “I…” Lea started, sounding breathless, and Rita tried to look at her face and not at the slope of her neck, tits heaving up and down under the fabric. “I need this to be something. I can’t be just someone you use for a while.”

For a second, it hurt, the implication that Rita would ever do that to her – though, probably, regarding her history, it was only fair. She didn’t know how to say it, so she just nodded.

“I mean it,” Lea whispered. “I don’t want to hold back anymore. I want to try.”

Rita bit her lip, realizing what was happening, how good it felt to hold Lea’s waist in her hands, remembering all the times people had teased her for wearing flannel, accusing her of being a lesbian. She’d always dismissed them, fucking yet another guy to prove it, but now, she wondered what exactly would be so bad about being called that. So, she said, “yeah,” and flipped them over, Lea letting out a shriek as she landed spread out on her back, “I want that too.”

She woke up with the sun in her face, a faint pounding in her head, a warm naked body wrapped around her. She turned her head and was met with the sight of Lea, asleep, her hair spread all over the cushion they somehow managed to share. Last night came back to her slowly, though she didn’t remember how they got to the bed. She smiled, placing a light kiss on Lea’s lips.

On the nightstand, Lea’s phone rang, and she stirred. For the first time since yesterday evening, Rita remembered that other people still existed, that there was more than Lea and her eyes and her moans and the way she writhed beneath her as Rita made her come again and again and again – something she never knew could be so fulfilling.

Something she desperately wanted to repeat. Right now.

Lea opened her eyes. “Good morning,” she mumbled, eyes taking in the sight of Rita lying there right next to her once again.

“A very good morning,” Rita replied, trailing her hands down the other woman’s body, a lazy grin unfolding on her face. “I can make it even better if you turn off your phone.”

Lea laughed, grabbing the thing from her nightstand and disabling it without a second thought, then gasped as Rita’s fingers moved down, right to where she wanted them. The students would have something new to write on the school’s bathroom door, she mused. _Rita fucks Lea_. _Rita is a dyke_.

Or, she figured, her heart warm as she watched honey brown eyes flutter, something more simple and true.

 _Rita <3 Lea_.


End file.
